


Clean-Cut

by insideabunker



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:33:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7401007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insideabunker/pseuds/insideabunker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a prompt regarding Bellamy and Clarke getting haircuts...</p>
<p>Post S3 finale, Skaikru makes its way back to Arcadia from Polis.  Clarke and Bellamy have a moment of downtime to clean themselves up, and process what's happened.  Clarke cuts Bellamy's hair for him.  One shot.  Total Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The long and winding procession of travelers stumbled through the semi-darkness of the forest, half on their way to sleep or, in the cases of the children tucked protectively into the arms of weary parents, already there. As the gentle rain that had been falling all night ceased, and the damp fog of morning began to break, the first few individuals broke the tree line. There, on the other side of the field was their final destination, Arkadia. Her gate remained open, as it had when the great migration to Polis had begun, revealing the empty city within. Steam was rising from the corrugated tin roofs of the building, and an eerie stillness permeated the whole of the camp, save for the few small predators who scurried about, scavenging to uncover abandoned food stores.

As Bellamy made his way into the camp, he noticed that the ramshackle door of a nearby produce locker had been clawed away, a trail of rotting fruit leading away into the woods. He sighed, shifting the young boy he was carrying and handing him down to his mother. He locked his fingers together and flipped his hands over, stretching his arms above his head. The child had been too tired to continue walking on the long march back to polis, and after watching his mother strung to keep hold of him, Bellamy had offered to take the boy the rest of the way. Though he hadn’t been heavy, Bellamy’s arms ached from carrying him through the long, cold night. He winced as he rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the knots that had formed in his neck and back.

“That was nice of you.” Clarke shuffled to a stop beside him and gave him a half hearted smile that barely managed to cover her exhaustion, or her melancholy. She yawned, rubbing her eyes and managing to smear soot over her face. “You could have put him in the rover.”

Bellamy shook his head, watching as the vehicle rolled in, loaded down with those who had been too sick, or injured to walk. “No room.” He turned to her, smiling as he raised a hand, wiping the smudges from Clarke’s face with the pad of his thumb. “You’re a mess Clarke.”

For a moment, Clarke stilled, leaning into his touch as though it were the most comforting thing in the world. She sighed, her eyelids flickering shut, and her breath slowing. A moment later, she reached up, wrapping her delicate fingers around his wrist, and staring at him with the same half grin as before. “Look who’s talking.” She released his wrist and raised her hand to his forehead, gingerly pushing away the shaggy, sweaty mop of hair that clung to his brow and fell in his eyes. “When was the last time you cut this, Bell?”

Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh at her practicality. After helping to saved humanity from technological annihilation, and completing the day and a half march back from Polis, anyone else would have immediately dismissed all other concerns and fallen into bed; but not this girl. Clarke wasn’t capable of silencing her mind, even for a second. Bellamy knew that Clarke, even in her most carefree moments, was constantly making a mental list of concerns to be addressed, ever conscious of the needs of those around her. It was a disposition he knew all too intimately. Bellamy wished that he could relieve her of the crushing weight of her responsibilities. If it meant giving her even a moment of genuine peace, he would have happily shoulder all of her burdens himself.

From the corner of his eye, Bellamy noticed two guards escorting a prisoner through the gate. Upon closer inspection, Bellamy realized that the man being towed between the two men was Jaha, his hands and feet bound with rope, and a gag placed over his mouth. Bellamy nodded his head toward the spectacle. “Actually, I think the last time I had it cut was the day before I shot him.”

Clarke laughed awkwardly at his off color joke, her nostrils flaring just a bit as she watched the guards carry Jaha into the Ark, clearly headed for the holding cells. She shrugged, turning back to him. “Shame you missed.”

Bellamy’s face fell at her words. It was a rare thing for Clarke’s thoughts to drift to a place that was so dark and unforgiving. “You don’t mean that.”

She pushed her disheveled hair away from her face and over her shoulders, getting her fingers tangles in the knots. “Maybe…”

Sensing her need for comfort in that moment, Bellamy reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her protectively, and holding her close. “We’re home Clarke. Try not to think about anything else right now.” She let out a long breath, relaxing into his torso after a moment and wrapping her arms around him gently, pulling herself closer into his body and sniffing under her breath. “You smell terrible Bellamy.”

He laughed. “You’re one to talk there princess. Don’t they let ambassadors bathe in the capital?”

She grinned into his chest, and glanced up at him, smiling genuinely for the first time in longer than she could remember. “So… Where can a girl get a shower around here?”

Bellamy rocked them from side to side, holding her close to him. “Come on, you.” He let go of her torso, taking her hand in his and leading her into the long building that housed their hygiene facilities. “With any luck we’ll beat the line before the last of the water pressure runs out.”

———————————

Wash facilities had been communal in space. With over 3000 citizens, and too few resources, worrying about offending anyone’s sensibilities was the least of people’s concerns. Men and women had shared the large bathrooms in each station, and did their best to respect what little dignity the shower stall’s curtains had afforded. Over the course of 96 years, it had become normal, routine even, to see members of the opposite sex in various states of undress.

As Clarke stood under the drizzle of the shower pipe, however, she noticed that something felt distinctly different about the atmosphere of the wash house in Arkadia. At least part of that was due to the less than modest amount of privacy offered by the wash stalls. Equipped with doors though they were, certain adjustments had been made to adjust for resource scarcity. The doors ran from the top of most people’s shoulders to their knees, leaving heads and legs visible everywhere Clarke looked. As she turned towards the isle that divided the two long rows of stalls, her eyes caught sight of Bellamy, lathering soap into his hair in the stall across form hers. He turned around then, their eyes meeting momentarily as he caught Clarke staring. Bellamy smiled awkwardly, playfully flexing the muscles of his chest to break the tension. “Jeez Clarke, make a guy feel cheap, why don’t you?” Clarke blushed and turned away. She finished washing herself, and grabbed her threadbare towel, wrapping it tightly around her body. “Meet me back in my mother’s compartment?”

Bellamy waved his hand in acknowledgement, and Clarke proceeded back towards the women’s changing area, keeping her eyes trained on the floor.

 

———————————

Bellamy ruffled the towel over his messy hair as he walked toward Clarke’s compartment, doing his best to stop it from dripping over his clean, dry shirt. When he was certain he’d gotten a good amount of the water out, he flung the towel over his shoulder, and did his best to comb his hair with his fingers. As he ran his hand through the damp mess, he noticed how long it had become, realizing simultaneously how long it had been since he’d even been able to look at himself in a mirror. Arriving at the Griffin’s door, he knocked, suddenly feeling self conscious about his appearance. A moment later the doors hummed to life, sliding opened, and revealing a sight that took Bellamy completely by surprise.

Clarke stood before him, ever inch of her alabaster skin scrubbed free of the dirt and grime it had constantly been covered in lately. Her clothes were neat, and as free of holes as one could reasonably expect hundred year old hand-me-downs to be. Bellamy realized it was the first time in quite a while that he’d seen Clarke in something other than grounder rags. She wore a white tank top under a faded, light blue thermal. The shirt hung off one shoulder, as though the collar had been stretched too wide. Bellamy smiled, enjoying how much softer Clarke looked now that she had rid herself of the leather and armor she’d been clad in for months.

Her hair was different as well. Gone were the dreadlocked pieces and colored bits, and in their place were the sleek, fine trusses that Bellamy remembered from years ago, in moments when they would pass each other in the corridors of Alpha station. Every strand of Clarke’s golden mane had been conditioned, combed and cut. It hung several inches below her shoulders, with a few shorter pieces hanging around her cheeks, framing Clarke’s face like a halo.

Clarke waved him forward and Bellamy entered the compartment, throwing his towel on a nearly chair. “You clean up pretty well, Princess. I like what you’ve done with the hair.” He reached out, batting at a loose strand.

Clarke felt her cheeks flush a bit, and turned away quickly, grabbing Bellamy’s towel off the chair and busying herself finding a place to hang it. “You really like it? I only had the little mirror next to the beds to work with, which made cutting it pretty hard. I wasn’t sure how it was going to turn out.”

Bellamy made his way over to the mirror she’d mentioned. “Yeah! I think it looks great.” He gazed at his reflection in the tiny, square mirror and frowned. “Can’t say the same about this rats nest though.” He shoved his fingers this way and that through his dark curls, trying to get them to lay flat, and failing miserably. 

Clarke walked over to him and watched him struggle with an amused smirk. Finally, she grabbed his hand, stilling his efforts and pointing to a nearly chair. “Sit.”

Bellamy took a seat and watched as Clarke made her way over to a stack of drawers and opened the highest one, removing out a sharp pair of scissors, a small set of shears, and a comb. She made her way back over to Bellamy, placing the items on the table next to him. Clarke reached behind her head, pulling her hair away form her face and twisting it up into a messy bun, which she secured with an elastic band from her wrist. Bellamy couldn’t help but notice how radiant she looked with her hair up. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, settling into the chair, and trying not to stare at the beautiful woman hovering over him.

Clarke combed Bellamy’s wet hair, parting it to one side and then the other, before peering down over the top of his head. “Which side?”

He pointed to his right, and she set to work again, combing his hair down in even sweeps until it fell over his ears and eyes. Clarke pick up the scissors, and steadied his head as she began to make careful cuts around his hairline. Bellamy watched as long pieces of wet hair fell to the floor around him. “You sure you know what you’re doing, Princess?” Through the hair in his eyes he could just make out her face as she smiled down at him . Her face was sad, and nostalgic. “I’m sure. My mother used to do this for my father. After dinner, on the first day of every month, he’d sit right where you’re sitting now, and she’d cut his hair for him. I used to love watching them do that. It seemed so…” She paused. “So Intimate. So tender.”

Clarke finished cutting around his hair line and began running her hands through his hair, working it this way and that, before rolling a section between her fingers and cutting away the edges. Bellamy sat in silence as she continued working her way around his head, gathering hair between her fingers and cutting away the ends with each snips of her scissors. He reveled in the feeling of her fingers as they massaged his scalp with each pass. His body relaxed, and his eyelids began growing growing heavy. “You’re gonna put me to sleep running your hands through my hair like that.”

Clarke laughed at how sleepy his voice sounded. “Almost done.” She made a few more snips over the top of his head, trimming away the bulk of his bangs and evening out the layers of thick dark curls. Finally, she set the scissors down and picked up the shears, flipping a switch on the side that set them buzzing to life. She trimmed up Bellamy’s sideburns and neck with short, precise strokes, and then flicked the sheers off, gathering her supplies and walking back the the set of drawers to put them away. When she came back she ran her hands through Bellamy’s hair a few times, ruffling it and shaking out the loose cut pieces. “Ok, take a look.” 

He stood, bending over to gaze into the mirror. His tangled locks had been replaced by a clean, smart looking layer cut. His hair was shorter than it had been in years, but as he turned his head form side to side, examining Clark’s handiwork, he realized that it he much preferred it to the unruly, long locks he had been sporting. He stared at his reflection, examining the face staring back. He noted his broad nose, and the freckles that had constantly embarrass him as a child. His face had gotten leaner in the past year, he though, revealing a strong jaw and a firm brow. Bellamy knew that he had never wanted for girls attention, but in that moment he found himself wondering if Clarke, too, found him handsome. He turned to her, noticing that she was biting her lip, and looking at him nervously. “Is it ok? Do you like it?”

He smiled at her and shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I like it a lot. Do you think I look good?” Bellamy waited for a change in Clarke’s expression, but found only sincerity there. She smiled, reaching up to smooth an errant strand behind his ear. “Very handsome.” Bellamy did his best not to blush at the compliment. Unsure of how to react, he punched Clarke lightly in the arm, realizing a moment too late how awkward the gesture must seem to her, and immediately becoming embarrassed. He looked around the room, doing everything possible to avoid her gaze, before finally turning back to her and clearing his throat. “So… you must be really tired.”

She nodded at him and tried to stifle the yawn that came a moment later. “Exhausted. I think I’m going to turn in actually. I can barely keep my eyes open. Bellamy smiled at her and wrapped his arms over her shoulders, giving her a quick hug. “I should let you get some rest. Thanks again for the haircut, Princess.” He took a step towards the door but felt a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Wait.”

Bellamy turned back to find worry clouding Clarke’s eyes. “Bellamy would you…” She turned her gaze to the floor and shuffled her feet for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to continue. “Could you maybe stay with me, just until I fall asleep?” Bellamy’s heart skipped a beat, but his excitement turned to heartache when he realized that it was not love, nor longing that had prompted her question, but fear. Perhaps it was of the terror of the things that she knew might come of her in the dark, perhaps it was simply the idea of being alone with her own thoughts, but Clarke was afraid. Bellamy looked at her, beaming with love and concern. He nodded and took her hand, allowed her to lead him over to the small bed that was tucked into a wall, in the corner of the room. She flipped the light off, and climbed onto the bed, turning on her side and placing one hand underneath the pillow. Bellamy climbed in behind her, and wondering how close she wanted him. His question was answered a moment later, when Clarke back her body against his, reaching behind her to grab his hand and pulling it over her waist. She laced her fingers through his, and curled her body into him, pulling him tight around her. “Six months Bell, that’s how long she gave us.”

The reality of everything she’d told him in Polis came crashing down around him, settling over his heart like a lead weight. “How can you be sure that she was telling the truth, Clarke?”

He felt her let out a deep, pitiful sigh. When she spoke again, there was gravel in her voice, as though she was holding back tears. “I.. I just am. I know somehow.” She wriggling ever closer to him then, and Bellamy wrapped his arms around her like a security blanket; like if he held her tightly enough, he could protect her form every terrible thing in the world.

That he cared loved the tiny, fierce girl in his arms, was a clean-cut fact. Bellamy was in love with Clarke. Of that and nothing else, he was certain. He loved her beyond all reason. He loved her beyond all the decision she made that infuriated him and broke his heart. He loved her beyond any hope of being loved back. One day, he was sure, she would realize that she loved him too. He felt it sometimes, in the awkwardness of her glances, in the flush of her cheeks when he caught her staring, and in private moments when things between them felt, as Clarke had put it earlier, intimate and tender. But for now, one day would have to wait. For now, Clark simply needed him to hold her, and shelter her from the weight of the world. Bellamy leaned forward and kisses the top of her head ever so gently. “We’ll figure it out, Princess… Together.”


	2. Author's Note

Hey everyone,

I have really loved my time on AO3, but in a effort to centralize my work, I am going to be transitioning to Tumblr exclusively over the course of the next week. Until this Sunday, all of my stories will continue to be available here. Don't worry, still I plan to continue all of them, even the ones haven't been updated in a awhile. However, as of this Sunday subsequent updates will only be available on Tumblr. As of Sunday, February 12th, everything will be coming down from my profile on AO3. If you've been reading on here, feel free to follow me on Tumblr at insideabunker.tumblr.com. I am making the switch because I have more control over the look and feel of the stories on Tumblr, and it honestly feels a little more intimate as a platform. However, reviews and comments tend to be sparse over there, so if you are someone who tends to comment on my stories here, please continue to do so there! Nothing is better than feedback from readers! Thanks for everyone who will continue to follow me once I make the switch, and my sincerest apologies to those who won't be able to.

Best,  
insideabunker


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